


Eyes Wide Open

by gaialux



Category: Shawshank Redemption - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8755462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: Even now, with my bare toes on the hot sand, I waited to wake back in Shawshank. Trapped in metal cages and told when to piss, when to sleep, when to eat. [...] Even now.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dira Sudis (dsudis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/gifts).



> Please read the tags for warnings. Set post-canon. Happy yuletide!

Zihuatanejo.

It was a name I couldn't forget. A place that didn't sound real.

Even now, with my bare toes on the hot sand, I waited to wake back in Shawshank. Trapped in metal cages and told when to piss, when to sleep, when to eat.

Even now.

 

* * *

 

Andy was home. Completely at ease. He whistles as he works and I watch him from a wooden recliner fashioned by Andy's own hands.

"What about a swim?" Andy asked, looking up and wiping a hand across his sweaty brow. The sun glistens on his tanned skin and his teeth shine in its light. That smile hasn't been wiped off since they met again.

I shake my head. "I'm right here."

Truth is, I never learned how to swim. It wasn't something that was taught for a young -- black -- boy in the early 1920s. Of course Shawshank placed me close enough to smell the docks and, now, I wish I had skill. If only for Andy's sake.

"Okay," Andy called. He didn't go toward the ocean himself. He stayed and continued carving what was beginning to look like a coffee table. Intricate swirls being carved into the sides and thick legs lying in the sand as they wait to be attached. Everything Andy made had his own touch. His own delicacy. I was envious -- but don't tell him that.

 

* * *

 

Andy learned more about me than any man in my forty years as a con. He didn't probe. He didn't even ask. He sat. He listened. And he pieced things together with his own intellect and intuition.

"I didn't consider it, you know," Andy said. He looked out over the ocean as the sun slowly set. We had the perfect view here. The perfect life.

"You didn't consider what?" At this point I was thoroughly confused.

"Back then. I married my wife because that's what was done. We met in college. We married. We considered children, but just..."

Part of me wanted to speak, but I knew he wasn't yet done.

"I think..." He swallowed. I could see his throat work over. "I think I had the gun because of my dignity. She was with someone else and I...I couldn't."

I thought there was a shine in his eyes, but it may have just been the water's reflection.

His next words solidified what I was thinking. "The Sisters didn't help things later on." He gave a bitter laugh then looked me right in the eye. "Were they are problem for you?"

It was the only question of its kind Andy had ever asked me. Right to the piercing point. All the same, I wasn't taken aback. It seemed a natural progression. However strange to an outsider.

"No," I said with a shake of my head. "I was the man who get it for you -- even them, once upon a time."

"Once upon a time?"

"There's only so long you can turn a blind eye to absolutely everything."

Andy nodded slowly. He seemed deep in thought. I reached out, tentatively, only daring to glide my fingertips across his arm. His nod turned into a smile and I matched it. Wavering but there. His other hand slowly reached over and encased my fingers that were warm and rough from work. He squeezed.

"Yeah," he said. "And sometimes it's worth it to see."


End file.
